


Blink And You'll Miss It

by lizandletdie



Series: 500 Follower Promptathon [9]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Stargate Universe
Genre: Angst, RUMPLE IS DEAD, blame ripper, oh god the angst, this hurts so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 03:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1843492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizandletdie/pseuds/lizandletdie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's easier to pretend like he's really Rumplestiltskin than it is to acknowledge the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blink And You'll Miss It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RipperBlackstaff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RipperBlackstaff/gifts).



> Ripperblackstaff prompted:  
> RushBelle : Sometimes it's too hard forcing herself not to see how much Rush looks like her first husband.
> 
> SO BLAME HER.
> 
> I hate that I have to do this, but apparently I do. If you're reading this fic anywhere besides AO3, it was posted without my consent and likely profited someone else. Please consider [donating](https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_donations&business=CZNGXGNP4PRX4&lc=US&item_name=The%20Mantis%20Fund&currency_code=USD&bn=PP%2dDonationsBF%3abtn_donate_SM%2egif%3aNonHosted) or swinging by my Tumblr (standbyyourmantis) to let me know what you thought!

It wasn’t a subtle resemblance, it wasn’t a squint and maybe you’ll see it look-alike.  He was a dead ringer for her Rumple.  She tried not to notice, because if she noticed it was too easy to let herself forget.  Belle was a widow now, and Nicholas Rush was not Rumplestiltskin.

He was thinner, for one, due to his intense focus on work and routinely forgotten meals.  The stubble on his face was unlike any that she’d ever seen gracing her husband’s jaw, and her Rumple had never worn glasses.

He also never looked at her like she was something miraculous and beautiful, and Rumple always had.

But there were nights — more than Belle personally cared to admit to — that he didn’t need to be her Rumple, it was enough that he looked like him.  He knew when she knocked on his doors at odd hours what she wanted, and would oblige her in this weakness.  It was a placebo that soothed her soul for the duration of the encounter and no longer.  As she watched him thrusting above her or coming undone beneath as she rode him, she was almost able to believe for those few moments that everything was as it should be and Belle was loved.

Once it was over, though, everything in her cried out to run from this stranger who wore her husband’s face and yet she could never bring herself to leave, either.  Instead she would cling to him, her head pressed against his chest and face hidden because looking at him would break the spell she had so desperately woven.  It was never quite enough, though.  Never, ever enough.  He smelled wrong and no matter how he held her it was never  _right,_  it was never her Rumple’s arms wrapped around her and his lips pressing kisses to her hair and neck.

If he ever noticed the wetness her eyes left on his skin when she finally crawled out of bed, or cared that she abandoned him before he woke in the morning, he never said a word about it after.

She wasn’t really sure which one of them was using the other more.


End file.
